“Anyone could have done it.”
“Please. But they didn’t. So, don’t interrupt me and let me finish.”
He nodded.
“Thank you. Thank you so much. I can’t even begin to tell you how that felt. But know I am forever grateful to you.” There was a pregnant pause. “Well, you could say, you’re welcome.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Good.” She nudged him. “So . . . . David said you do these sorts of things because you have nothing to lose.”
“Hawk’s an asshole. I have a lot to lose, my life for one thing. But I don’t think about it.”
“I’m sorry I’m such a damsel in distress. You’re probably tired of rescuing my ass.”
“A little.” Reese smirked. “Kidding. Besides, you’re the only one I like around here.”
“Oh, that’s so not true.” Lucy laughed.
“How are you? Really?”
Lucy stared at him. “Tired. Relieved. Sore. Grateful. Want a whole list?”
“Nah. As long as you’re ok.”
“I am. And I’m nervous about Cleveland tomorrow.”
“Maybe you should get some rest.”
“I’d like to. I talked to David about it.”
Reese rolled his eyes.
“And I felt so weak doing it. But David said after a traumatic experience, it’s normal not to want to be alone. I don’t want to be alone while I sleep.”
“That makes sense. You want to feel safe.”
“Safe isn’t a good word. Not feeling safe is saying that you can’t watch out for me. Secure. Yeah, that’s a better word.”
“You do what you need to do. I’ll be awake if anything happens.”
“That’s what I was hoping you’d say. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Good night, Lucy, and get some . . .” Reese paused. What was she doing? Reaching around him? “Lucy?”
“Goodnight, Reese. Let me know if I bother you. And thank you.”
His lips moved but words failed to emerge as she pulled his sleeping bag over her shoulder and rested her head on his thigh, curling up to him.
Reese was at a loss at what to do. He peered down at her, her eyes closed. His hand lifted and then rested gently on her shoulder. Was she comfortable? She couldn’t be, but she seemed content. And for some strange reason, with Lucy like that on his lap, so was Reese.
COMMANDER’S LOG GAL-026 – 1230 hours
Tomorrow we hit Cleveland. This trek from New York City to a one stoplight town called Easton, PA was uneventful until we arrived.
We encountered three survivors, all males. All wearing a bracelet that seemed to indicate that they were some sort of prisoners from a place referred to as SC.
The bracelets worn by the men, who turned out to be nothing more than animals in a human body, seemed to have a self-destruct mechanism, if removed. Obviously, this ‘SC’ has little or no tolerance for criminals.
We believe we found proof that David Hawk’s friend was alive when all this happened, and that there are survivors out there.
We just need to find them. They seem to be at this SC place. Where ever that may be. Perhaps Lucy’s children are part of this colony.
I am grateful to know there are survivors. That people did overcome whatever happened to this world. They will have answers, I am sure of it. The only thing that lays heavy on my mind is that after five years of this world, into what kind of people has the human race evolved?
CHAPTER TWNETY
SC 11 (So-Cal Sector 1, level 1)
Before the world went to shit, before the ‘drop’ occurred as many called it, Bishop Dean was a pharmaceutical salesman, and quite good at what he did.
Young, dashing, with a brilliant smile, at 29 years of age, he was headed for that top position.
Then the world went away.
That was five years earlier.
Now selling anything was the farthest thing from his mind or was it his job.
He sat in the control center of SC, or So-Cal, getting ready to start his night shift, after of course, completing the day shift. Bishop really didn’t mind; he took great pride in his job. Most of the Founders (those who began the SC colony) took on many responsibilities.
It was their civic duty.
What started five years earlier with 49 people, had evolved into a massive civilization of survivors in an underground city that spanned for hundreds of miles.
The control center was the heart and soul of a lot of things. Sometimes it was quiet, other times it was insane.
It was the brainchild of Mas, the scientific master who could create something out of nothing and make it work.
The computer system in the control room was no different.
Bishop was one of four who monitored it, but Bishop was the one who liked to monitor it the most. Mainly because he knew it the best and there wasn’t really anything much to it.
Except on this night would turn out to be different.
What came up on the control computer panel was more than a little surprising.
He had pulled up the results and printed them, and then printed them again. That’s when Parker walked into the room.
The control room was almost an entire sector of its own, not because of the size of the room, but more so due to its seclusion and the security measures needed to get in. Lock after lock, keypad after keypad. All biometric, requiring fingerprint approval before entry was allowed.
Parker Weston was a man in his sixties who was as fit as a well maintained man in his thirties.
A no nonsense man, who was just having trouble sleeping on one of his only nights off, and had decided to check in with Bishop.
He, too, like Bishop was one of the Founders.
“Was bored, not tired, and thought you might want some company,” Parker said. “Have you heard from the Brothers Hoyt? I heard they did a late night check on things up top.”
Preoccupied, Bishop answered, “Yeah, I think they may have gotten drunk after the check.”
“What else is new? What’s wrong?”
Bishop turned to face Parker. He felt his own face draw with confusion.
“What’s wrong?” Parker asked again.
“Parker . . .” Bishop waved him to one of the computer screens. “Take a look at this.”
Parker did. “Goddamn. You need to call Jeb.”
“I hate him. The last thing I want to do is deal with him tonight.”
“Yeah, yeah, but he’s the security and army around here. Call him.”
With a twitch of hesitation, but knowing he had to, Bishop picked up the radio.
<><><><>
“Shut the fuck up, you’re gonna wake my kid.” Jeb’s voice was husky and loud, no matter how softly he tried to speak. It matched his personality and body, loud and large. That’s what people said.
His brother Tate laughed. He was a boyish looking man with sandy brown hair and green eyes, handsome and average in height and build. He was a total visual contrast to his brother who was tall, dark and pretty much handsome only to his wife.
Jeb was worn. Worn in battle, he’d always fought hard.
“Quiet,” he said again, his voice every bit as loud as Tate’s as they walked into their tubular, the term people now used instead of the word home. Apartments were now referred to as multi-family tubulars, while houses were called singular family tubulars. Not that they were tubes themselves, but the shafts and hallways leading to them were. Thomas Brownstone was an architect who had joined them very early on. When a means of safe housing was needed, Thomas had come up with the concept of tubulars. Each tubular was complete in itself with its own electricity, plumbing and ventilation. All were underground, utilizing every resource available to make them attractive and comfortable. Everything was expandable.
In fact, SC had expanded to nearly city size. Complete with tubes that functioned as streets connecting the various areas.
They had everything but constant real sunshine. People got thei
r sunshine by visiting Pit Park. It was a huge manmade cavern that had grass and a playground and gave them the ability to enjoy the sun which was visible through an opening, two hundred feet above them that was protected by electric beams.
In fact, that’s where Tate and Jeb had been. Stopping there to share a bottle and look at the stars and discuss the trip they had made up top.
They could have done that up top. But Jeb’s wife hated when they stayed up there too long. It was just too dangerous.
The Brothers Hoyt weren’t fearful of what was topside. They had pretty much faced it all. But they did cringe with fear over Jeb’s wife’s ability to annihilate them verbally.
“Gotta love a free night,” Tate said as he lifted the bottle to his mouth and took a swig.
“Bet me it doesn’t stay that way.” Jeb scoffed.
“Nah.”
Static sounded from the radio as if on cue.
“Jeb,” Bishop called over the radio.
“See.” Jeb point to his radio and lifted it.
“Jeb, come in.”
“What the fuck.” Jeb, after a shake of his head, depressed the button. “You’re gonna wake my kid. What’s up?”
“I need you in control stat.”
“Bishop, I’m always in control.”
“In the control room, asshole.”
“Problem?”
“Not an emergency, but you have to see this.”
“On my way.” He replaced the radio on his waist. “Ready?” he asked Tate.
“Any guesses on what it’s about?”
“Yep.” Jeb walked to the door. “Bet me it’s about 120 A, B and C.”
Tate cringed. “I won’t even take that bet. After you,” he said as he held open the door for his older brother and they both walked out.
<><><><>
Bishop chewed on a pencil while waiting on the Brother’s Hoyt. He never was a cigarette smoker, hated it his whole life, but then it was discovered that smoking was a necessity and a must for everyone or at least to be constantly around a smoker. Not only for the scent, but the dieldrin, methanol, carbon monoxide, and hydrogen released in the cigarette smoke were vital. So Bishop started to smoke like everyone else. But he had smoked too much that day and while he wanted a cigarette, he wanted to preserve his lungs more. So he chewed on his pencil.
Parker on the other hand enjoyed the fact that he could smoke. He did so as he sat with Bishop waiting on the Brothers Hoyt.
Their arrival didn’t take long since the residential area wasn’t that far away when using transport.
Jeb walked in first and as usual made a statement or a comment, as if he didn’t think anyone would notice he was there. “You know,” Jeb said. “You don’t need to smoke in this sector.”
Parker just shrugged. He didn’t care.
“Just letting you know,” Jeb said as he and Tate stepped closer to the console. “Who’s going on? Was it whatever you think fell from the sky in the East?”
“Nah,” Bishop shook his head. “Without going out there and checking there’s no way to determine what fell into the former Atlantic Ocean.”
“120 A, B, C?” Tate asked.
“Yep.”
“Fuck.” Jeb shook his head. “Are they on their way back?”
“Not even remotely,” Bishop replied. “As with all other criminals, we’ve been tracking them with the Self Imprisonment Protections System.”
“Why do you refuse to call them SIPS?” Jeb asked.
“It’s a stupid acronym. Anyhow, we’ve been tracking them,” Bishop said. “They were good to avoid being prey. How that happened, I don’t know. But, they were headed to the East.”
Tate nodded. “Looking for fresh water, Lake Erie.”
“The only one remaining on that side, yeah, that’s what we figured. They passed it though,” Bishop said. “We were guessing, Albany, you know the rumors about Albany being a free zone.” He waited until he got the nod. “But they never made it beyond Easton, PA.” He pulled up the map.
Tate leaned in closer. “That makes no sense.”
Parker interjected, “Sure it does, once you think about it.”
“120 A activated his bracelet. That’s dumb,” Tate said.
“That’s what we thought, until you look at the whole picture,” Parker explained. “120 A didn’t activate his bracelet.”
Tate took another look. ‘Yeah, he did. It’s a half of foot from him, the cranium chip exploded.” He nodded, very sure of himself and then looked at Parker who shook his head. “No? What then?”
Jeb answered, “Cranium chip exploded at 2247. Life signal ceased at 2122. The bracelets let us know when they are removed, but they’re always active, even after they pick up life-force cessation. 120 B and C are no luckier. 6 minutes earlier, we received cessation of life signals from them, 30 seconds apart. They were 4 miles from 120 A. They died at this location.” Bishop pointed, “Their bracelets, still sending a faint signal, are 300 yards away.”
“Wait. Wait.” Jeb waved out his hand. “What are . . .”
“Gets better.” Bishop held up his finger. “B and C, their craniums exploded, without the activation of the bracelet.”
Jeb’s eyes widened. “Headshots?”
“Yep. Both of them were shot in the head, activating the cranium device. Two bracelets 900 feet away. One activated after death. Two headshots, Gentleman, and there are no other criminals in that area,” Bishop said smug. “Someone is out there. Wait. Someone human is out there.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
There was a lot more to it than the sheer fact that he saved her life with such heroics. He made even the best movie hero look lame. Lucy found security in Reese’s scent.
When she was nine years old she had chicken pox and everyday her grandfather would come to her home and sit with her.
Every day, Lucy waited for that scent. A scent she associated with healing and security.
It was that simple everyday man’s smell of Brute.
Not that Reese wore it regularly. That was something Lucy didn’t know. And not that he splashed it on before a big day of rummaging through an apocalyptic world. But while at Walmart, that was the scent of the deodorant he had grabbed.
When he rescued her the night before, sweeping her from danger into his arms, she could smell the Brute.
It was a scent that brought back a memory of security.
While Thaddeus prepared pancakes that morning on a camping grill from the sportsman section of Walmart, Lucy helped roll Reese roll up his belongings.
He tossed on a new shirt and she handed him the deodorant.
“I’m sorry, do I smell?” he asked.
She smiled bashfully, “No, not at all, it’s just the scent of this . . . it makes me . . . Could you just wear it?”
He laughed with a shrug and lifted his arm. She turned her head while he applied it, as if putting on deodorant was a private thing.
Reese hadn’t gotten much sleep. He assured her he would get a couple hours on the ride to Cleveland.
Lucy knew she wouldn’t sleep. The only reason they were going to Cleveland at all was to look for her family.
If it wasn’t for looking for them, they’d head straight to Texas to find David’s friend.
A part of Lucy was realistic. It had been five years. Most survivors had moved on to the SC place. Why wouldn’t her family have if they survived?
A part of her reasoned that she should just speak up and say, head to Texas, but the other part of her couldn’t go. Not without knowing for sure. Without a doubt going to her home would tell her the fate of her family.
On that Lucy didn’t know whether to be excited or fearful.
<><><><>
After the short stop on Interstate 80, they moved at a steady pace toward Cleveland. Thaddeus held all three bracelets. There wasn’t much he could do with them. The one still had faint lights and he couldn’t figure out why.
Maybe Martin Burgess had answers to the bracelet
s. Undoubtedly, this SC place did, and Thaddeus was anxious to get there. Where ever that would be.
He was glad to see the colonel sleep. He had been on the go, not resting, and when they got in the van, and David had sounded the ‘all clear’ in horn beeps, Reese closed his eyes. He woke up briefly to take a leak on the side of the road when they paused, then got back in the van and closed his eyes again.
For as big of a man as he was, he sat in the far back seat with Lucy. With less leg room the bench seat was the longest, he could stretch out more, and Lucy required little room.
Thaddeus and Gene had the middle seats.
Kip sat up front navigating with the GPS while watching David’s contraption. Thaddeus tried to eavesdrop on the conversation, but between the distance of seats and Gene engrossed in an episode of Gunsmoke on his private player, he heard muffled sounds at best.
All Thaddeus could do was watch the road and occasionally turn around to look at Lucy.
She stared out the window.
Counting miles perhaps, dreading each marker they zipped by, anticipating with hope and with fear. That was what Thaddeus guessed.
He didn’t know much at that moment, but he knew one thing. He didn’t want to be in Lucy’s position.
<><><><>
“They just dropped.” David shook his head as he clenched the wheel leaning forward, swerving a little to the right to avoid a piece of airplane. “Can you imagine what these people went through?”
“Nothing, dude,” Kip stated. “Seriously. If they just dropped, then they just dropped, and they didn’t feel a thing.
“People who hit the ground did.” David’s head nodded.
“Do you think like the reason we haven’t seen anyone is because they all went to this SC place?”
“Oh, absolutely.”
“Weird. Makes me think of that movie.”
It made David do a double take. If Kip was thinking of a movie he had to decide if it was just a ‘thought’ or if it was one of his visions. “What movie?”
“Oh, dude, hold on. The one with planes dropping from the sky and that little dude actor, that left his hot wife for some underage chick, proved he wasn’t gay.”
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